If You Want Me (Toronto Terror #2) Read Online Helena Hunting

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Forbidden, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Toronto Terror Series by Helena Hunting
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Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
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“It’s good you’re working things out.”

“Yeah, it is. I was my own problem. Sometimes I still am.”

“We all are.” Isn’t that what Aurora meant when she said I should get out of my own way? Maybe she’s right.

I watch as Rix and Aurora sway to the music, laughing, Aurora’s hands on Rix’s shoulders and Rix’s on Aurora’s hips. What I wouldn’t give to trade places with Rix. I want to believe Roman would get over it the way Flip has, but I don’t know. In some ways, Rix ending up with Tristan is more fucked up, considering his history with Flip. Those two have seen sides of each other that complicate things. But Aurora is so young. What she wants now could change, should change with time and experience. I don’t want to complicate her relationship with Roman.

“Oh, fuck, dude.”

I look over at Tristan. He’s staring at me with something like understanding, empathy, and pity. The last time I saw this look on his face was when they carried me off the ice a few weeks ago. “What’s going on?”

“Now it all makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Maybe he’s drunker than he looks.

“Don’t make the same mistake I did. I caused a lot more hurt than I needed to.”

Panic makes my throat tight. Back when Tristan and Rix were still hiding what was going on, Roman called him on it. I didn’t find out until after shit hit the fan that he already knew, but I hope this isn’t Tristan telling me he thinks he knows what’s going on with me and Aurora. I don’t even know what’s going on. Only that it’s become impossible to stay on the right side of the line. “What are you⁠—”

I startle when Roman’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Hey, man, do you have Peggy’s clutch? Is everything okay?”

I hold up the clutch, then point to Aurora and the girls. “Yeah, just keeping an eye on things.”

“Thanks for making sure she stays out of trouble.” Roman makes a constipated Kermit the Frog face when Aurora starts twerking in her princess dress. “I gotta head out. I’m meeting with my agent in the morning.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just a couple of things we need to discuss. You staying a bit longer or you want to come back with me?”

My knee is starting to ache, and sticking around means Tristan can grill me. I don’t want to do something stupid, like actually confide in the guy. And being this close to Aurora without putting my hands on her, kissing her, is pushing me to the edge. The wave of guilt is more than I can deal with. I’m screwed all the way around. “I’m ready to go,” I say, though it’s not really true.

We say our good nights and leave Tristan, Flip, and Dallas to watch over the girls. Roman tells Aurora to text him when she’s home. He passes out on the ride back to our place, probably because of the bourbon. He’s bleary eyed on the ride up to the penthouse, mumbling good night as he lets himself into his place.

I feed Postie and Malone as soon as I walk through the door. Then I hit the shower and whack off to thoughts of Aurora, feeling guilty as fuck when I come. I change into a T-shirt and joggers, turn on the TV, grab an ice pack, and sit on the couch, flipping channels until I find the news. Postie kneads my legs until he deems them appropriately tenderized, while Malone humps his blanket and I scroll through social media, checking Hemi’s feed. Half an hour ago, she posted a picture of her and the girls at the Pancake House across the street.

Rix will stay at Tristan’s tonight. Aurora’s probably home by now. I war with myself to stay where I am. To not give in. To not be weak.

CHAPTER 22

HOLLIS

Ilose the battle to stay on my couch where I belong and grab my fob. I’m not thinking about consequences as I step into the elevator and push the button for Aurora’s floor. If she doesn’t answer, I’ll go back to my place, jerk off again, and go to bed.

But she does.

The door only opens a few inches because the safety latch is engaged. She’s still wearing the princess dress. “Hollis?” She looks up at the latch. “You better not be here to give me a speech about why what I did on the dance floor was a bad idea. No one could see me.”

I shake my head. “That’s not why I’m here.” Of course that’s what she thinks. It’s what I’ve done every single time I’ve lost control—let her feel like she’s responsible for my inability to handle myself around her. It’s her way. To own things that aren’t hers. I need to remember that.

“Hold on.” She closes the door and opens it all the way. “Is everything okay?”



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